Question
by Amethyst Light
Summary: Silence is deadly.


A/N: Wrote on a whim for some friends! I apologize for the OOC-ness.

Alisa is very easy to amuse. Very easy. A brightly colored anemone swaying in the gentle breeze? She'll go on and on how pretty it looks, picking it up and gathering its scent until the petals start to fall off. A scampering woodland critter? She'll fly towards it god speed, pick it up and cuddle it for a few seconds before she unknowingly unleashes her robotic weaponry on the poor animal. Good thing rabbits reproduce like there is no tomorrow.

She was a little girl trapped in a metallic shell. The world her playground, each passing day one recess after another. Alisa Boskonovitch wanted to know everything. Not knowing would make her explode. Literally.

And then she met Dragunov.

Ecstatic to meet another person from her homeland, Alisa instantly tried to strike a conversation with the Angel of Death. He was the polar opposite of her. His uniform's somber shades of dusky brown clashed with her lavender and violet dress. Black hair slicked back with copious amounts of hair gel was no match to her two toned red and pink hair. Not to mention the fact that he's human and she a cyborg. That just added one more difference between the two Russians.

"Hello! My name is Alisa! What is yours?" Alisa beamed as she greeted Dragunov with much enthusiasm. Dragunov just stared the perky girl. "I see you are part of SPETSNAZ. It's great to meet a patriot of our homeland!"

"Hmph."

"I am fighting for a cause as well. My life is dedicated to protect Jin, even though he doesn't seem to appreciate it. Oh well! I will do whatever it takes to fulfill this goal. So what exactly does your group do?"

Dragunov rolled his eyes and scoffed at what she said. Protect _Jin_? Out of all people, why Jin? If she were fighting for Mother Russia he might have answered her but now he is indefinitely on vocal lockdown. What can he say? She brought it onto herself.

"Please, take your time. I can wait!" Alisa smiled, waiting anxiously for Sergei to speak.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Three minutes passed.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

_Thirty_.

"Do you have an answer yet?" the pink-haired girl asked politely.

"…"

"…Is your voice box broken? I can ask my father to fix it!"

"…"

It wasn't long until Alisa started to laugh nervously, wringing her hands together as she tried her best to make Sergei speak. No one has ever rejected her before when it comes to conversation. Everyone seemed to love her cutesy charm, melting at her adorable speech and mannerisms. She was so used to people speaking to her as soon as she squeaked a _Gomennasaii!_

"Please speak! My head is hurting from all this silence. Please answer."

"…"

"Oh no..." Alisa gasped, covering her mouth with one dainty hand. "I know why you won't answer. I offended you, didn't I?! If I did, I am very sorry! I did not mean to. How can I make it up to you?" Alisa's happy go lucky mood just took a turn down south.

Dragunov stared into her emerald green eyes, which looked like they were about to leak some sort of liquid excrement. Tears? He would not know of such a thing since his tear ducts dried out and shrunk from years of disuse. So is the life of a Russian soldier. Sergei did feel some sympathy for the girl but at the same time he was amused at her now spastic behavior. He found it, dare he think it, delightful.

"_Gomennasai gomennasai_! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" the female Boskonovitch began to sob. "I asked too personal of a question. I feel terrible! Please! Don't ignore me! I will do whatever it takes to undo this wrong!"

Dragunov let out a grunt in annoyance, her voice piercing his eardrums. That only made Alisa cry even more, feeling horrible for bothering the Russian man. He kept watching the girl, who looked like she was having a nervous breakdown. At first he found it amusing but as soon as he saw smoke and sparks…

_Boom!_

Sergei was blown back from the explosion. He actually looked surprised to see the girl, now headless, standing in front of him like a daintily dressed mannequin.

Now if only the silent treatment could work like that on everyone_._


End file.
